Serial Killer I Love You


killer knife

When we first met I thought you were weird,
But it turned out it seemed I had nothing to fear.
Because even though you’re a serial killer I found out
That of your love for me you said I should never doubt.
And now as I look back on our years together,
I should never have worried that our love wouldn’t last forever.
At first I found your life odd and I had to remember,
That I shouldn’t interrupt you while you dismember.
And I shouldn’t worry that you still have your mom’s clothes,
Or that upstairs her body is starting to decompose.
I learnt to ignore murder reports on the radio,
And not to question what you buried under the patio.
But I still get anxious when you go out to paint the town red,
And I worry for you as I lie awake with your mom in bed.
Wishing that you and your axe were here beside me,
But knowing how important it is that you finish your killing spree.
However I do have doubts that your love for me has passed,
When I discovered you’d dug a large hole in the vegetable patch.
And I wish I hadn’t bought you that saw for your birthday,
As you look at me funnily when you sharpen it every day.
We can’t part now I get on with your mom so well,
I’ve even managed to get used to her smell.
You know that I’m not someone of who you can casually dispose,
As who will wash the blood off the patio with the hose?
Who will everyday your knives and hammers oil?
Who will lie for you when the police call?
Our vows said clearly till death do us part,
So I hope you can find it in your heart.
To forget any thoughts of murdering me,
I mean who will grill your victims for your tea?
But you smile at me and it melts my doubts,
And I feel I’ve got nothing to worry about.
You say that hole in the vegetable patch
Is just for a bothersome badger you need to catch.
And as the sky begins to darken,
You take me out to show me this into the garden.
And as you walk behind me carrying your spade,
I wonder why I was ever afraid.

 

 

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The Breakfast Table Massacre


Cereal_Killer

 

You wouldn’t believe I’m a killer,
As to look at me you’d never guess.
That I’m actually a ruthless maniac,
It’s something I’ve got to confess.

You see my breakfast table every morning,
Is the scene of my many crimes.
It’s where I commit my foul murders,
Among the gingham table-cloth lines.

My anger starts when I see the packets,
Their happy coloured pictures rile me.
My hatred rises and rises,
And triggers my breakfast killing spree.

I start with the Shredded Wheat
I smother them in milk and then,
Press them down into the liquid,
And they are never seen again.

I then turn on the Weetabix,
I like to cover them in sugar.
Then crush them into little bits,
So they’re unrecognisable to their mothers.

Then I single out my cornflakes,
And flick them around the room.
My eager evil fingers,
Send them flying to their doom.

Rice Krispies are my least favourite,
With their snap, crackle and pop.
I break them in half slowly,
While they beg me to stop.

My neighbours are getting worried,
As every day I scream with delight.
And shout “death to all cereal,”
So they called 999 the other night.

But when the Police arrive,
They find me with just a cup of tea.
You see they’ll never get a conviction
As I’ve eaten the evidence you see.

So when my name is mentioned,
All breakfast stuff starts to shiver.
They’re worried I’ll pay them a visit,
Me, the ultimate cereal killer.

Hanging by my Fingertips


Fingertips

 

I’m hanging by my fingertips to the edge of the world.
It wasn’t something I was planning to be honest.
I suppose I was just being nosey
Investigating if the grass really was greener etc.
And now here I am
Hanging by my fingertips to the edge of the world.
I sneak a look at what lies below my feet
But I can only see an uncertain mist
Whipped by a wind that seems to whisper let go.
But can I?
Should I?
Why would I?
My fingertips are starting to ache
It’s hard to hang on to the edge of the world.
But I find strength as I do so
As I’m holding onto the familiar
It maybe the edge of the world but it’s my edge and I don’t want to let go.
The mist below me swirls melodramatically
Did I glimpse something beyond it?
What are my eyes drawn to down there?
If I fall will I fall forever?
An eternity of regret?
I’m hanging by my fingertips to the edge of the world.
I might let go in a minute
If I’m brave enough.

 

Sometimes you’re just having one of those days/weeks/lives……

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A poem for National Poetry Day – Let there be Light


 

Let there be Light 2

It’s National Poetry Day today and here is my contribution using the theme of light.

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